“There has been no challenge then?” “Not formally, yet almost an equivalent--I was permitted to aid in defence of this house only by pledging myself to Major Brennan afterwards.” “But why need it be--at least now that you have stood together as comrades?” “I fear,” I said quietly, “that fact will not count for much. We both fought inspired by your presence.” “Mine!” I hardly knew how to interpret her tone. “Certainly; you cannot be ignorant that Major Brennan's dislike is based upon your friendship for me.” “But there is no reason,” she stammered. “He has no cause--” “His reason I must leave him to explain,” I interrupted, to relieve her evident embarrassment. “His words, however, were extremely explicit; and to ignore them by departure is to imperil my own reputation in both armies. I would do so for no one else in the world but you.” Her reception of this almost open avowal surprised me. For an instant she remained motionless, her eyes lowered upon the carpet, a flush on either cheek; then they were frankly lifted to mine, and she extended both hands. “How can I ever thank you?” she asked gravely. “Captain Wayne, you make me trust you utterly, and place me constantly in your debt.” Her words and manner combined to make me realize the depth of her feeling. But what did they really betoken? Was it merely thankfulness at her husband's escape from peril, or a personal devotion toward myself? I could not determine, but might only venture to believe the first more probable. “Then you realize that I am right?” “Yes,” slowly, but making no effort to release her hands. “Yet is no other escape possible?” “None within my knowledge.” “And you must go?” “I must go--unless you bid me stay.” “Oh, I cannot; I cannot at such a cost!” she cried, and I could feel her body tremble with the intensity of her emotion. “But, Captain Wayne, our friendship surely need not be severed now for ever? I cannot bear to think that it should be. I am no cold, heartless ingrate, and shall never forget what you have done to serve me. I value every sacrifice you have made on my behalf. Let us indeed part now if, as you say, it must be so; yet surely there are happier days in store for both of us--days when the men of this nation will not wear different uniforms and deem it manly to fight and kill each other.” “The great struggle will certainly cease, possibly within a very few weeks,” I answered, greatly moved by her earnestness, “but I fear the men engaged in it will remain much the same in their natures however they may dress. I can only say this: Were the path clear I would surely find you, no matter where you were hidden.” She bowed her head against the post of the stair-rail and sobbed silently. I stood without speaking, knowing nothing I could hope to say which would in the least comfort her, for in my own heart abode the same dull despair. At last she looked up, making not the slightest attempt to disguise her emotion.